


Nifty Hunter Expansion Pack

by raven_aorla



Series: Sheaths and Safeties [5]
Category: Gotham (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Daemon Prejudice, Families of Choice, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Obscure Canids, Recruitment, Trans Female Character, daemon AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 18:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12870279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla
Summary: A past Zsaszette’s daemon - she’d retired after an injury - had been a mongoose, and that was fine. Zsasz's people had a definite trend for every kind of canine or vulpine EXCEPT the domestic kind, though. Apprentices included. Even if the apprentice had an embarrassingly tiny, adorable one for a guy, let alone an aspiring assassin.[Can be read alone.]





	Nifty Hunter Expansion Pack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [enchantersnight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchantersnight/gifts).



> enchantersnight the ever-faithful <3
> 
> These days I'm a fan of daemons having some correlation to characters' heritage. I've established in other stories that Nefyn has brown hair and green eyes, but also that he has no idea who his father was. Mixed-race people can totally have green eyes, and I couldn't pass his particular daemon up.

Being Zsasz’s crew’s house apprentice didn’t come with a lot of downtime, but Dr. Kali said everyone should kick back and genuinely rest on a regular basis, and that play did not always count as rest. So on this particular rainy day off, Nefyn decided to chill out and reread his favorite installment in one of his favorite book series growing up. But he’d been up so late last night after the dishes were done, learning how to fight hand-to-hand in the dark…and the sound of the pounding rain was so soothing outside…so very soothing…

**********************************************************

Even though Nefyn wanted to hide her in his jacket, Safi ended up perching on his shoulder instead as they were backed against a grimy brick wall. She was a little on the big side for his shoulder, but she was still smaller than a house cat and had learned how to balance. While his grip on the knife in his pocket was somewhat comforting, it probably wasn’t going to help much against five hulking mooks and their assortment of predator daemons. 

“I’m telling you,” he said slowly, “I’m just trying to find out who gave the order to kill my mother. I don’t want to hurt anybody except that person.”

The mook with a bobcat daemon laughed. “You and your big-eared rat don’t want to hurt us? I think it’ll work out, then.” He whistled.

Another mook had a hawk daemon, which lifted off and swooped after Safi. Right when the talons were just about to grab her, though, Safi yipped and leapt up to bite at its leg. Though her bite didn’t land, the sheer audacity of it distracted the bird long enough for Nefyn to twist around and stab it. Thankfully, he didn’t actually touch it with his hands. There were some lines he was not prepared to cross today.

He heard a thump. Swearing. Guns cocking. They were going to do this the mundane way, then, no more teasing.

“We’ve got each other,” Safi whispered in his ear, voice faint but steady. Of course she’d try a pep talk at a time like this. He decided to look at her instead of at their executioners. A better last sight.

Then four gunshots sounded. Four thumps. A splash of blood on the bandana covering the lower half of his face.

“Wanted to see what you’d do before I helped out,” said a voice from the mouth of the alleyway. A young woman, maybe early twenties, stepped into a puddle of streetlight where he could see her properly. She had a lowered gun in her hand and a bizarre, slender reddish canid daemon that kind of looked like a fox on black stilts - seriously a yard tall - or a supermodel jackal. The woman herself was not exceptionally tall and had a crew cut. Her features suggested Latina. Her all-black clothing ensemble and being a woman alone in this part of Gotham, at this time of night, suggested professional criminal. “Ran out of bullets?”

“Yeah. I’m not so good with guns.”

“Good with knives.”

Nefyn couldn’t help but feel a tad proud, despite everything else going on. “Mom died when I was too young for her to trust me with a gun, according to her.”

She raised an eyebrow. “How old?”

“Seven. After that it was practice and research.” He’d learned a few things from friends in juvenile detention, too, but he didn’t want to reveal too much of his past. “Can I go pull my throwing knives out of the bodies I left down the street?”

“We’ll walk with you.”

Safi shook off the golden Dust of the daemon that had burst right over her, then jumped off Nefyn’s shoulder and ran to sniff the other daemon, bold as brass. They talked quietly to each other. 

The young woman walked beside him as he went to fetch his possessions. “You can take off the bandana. Nefyn Pontiac, nineteen next month. Spent three years in juvie upstate for mutilating a man in self-defense…”

“Allegedly,” Nefyn interrupted bitterly. The public defender’s “advice” had been to just go ahead and plead guilty to felonious assault.

“We believe you,” she said. Did she mean her and her daemon? Either way, it was nice to hear someone say that so quickly and sincerely. 

“Take off the bandana,” Safi piped up. “There’s no point.”

“Are you letting a stranger’s...exotic...fox...give you a piggyback ride?” Nefyn asked, dutifully unmasking himself and dusting off Dust. Safi smirked with the entirety of her itty bitty muzzle and settled onto her new buddy’s back like it was a slender, tufted couch.

“He’s a maned wolf. Never seen a fennec fox before looking up your mugshot,” the young woman said. “I’m sure she’s not heavy. Mostly ears.”

At least she wasn’t calling Safi a rat, he supposed. “I have absolutely never heard anyone comment on my daemon’s size before, mystery lady.” Nefyn bent down to tug a knife free from the first of the corpses. Right in the chest. 

“Amanita. Do you think you’re the only one who gets daemon proportion comments?” She didn’t need to elaborate. Her daemon’s legs made him walk more like a deer than a dog, too.

Nefyn took out a cloth to wipe the blade clean before returning it to one of the several hidden sheaths strapped to his arms and torso. His gloves were getting dirty, but he’d invested in something he could easily wipe clean. “Fair enough. I appreciate the save, Amanita, but why are you stalking me?”

Amanita stepped over an outstretched dead arm. “You applied to the police academy and was turned down because of your record and colorblindness.”

And because they thought his daemon was pathetic, though they weren’t allowed to say so. Nefyn said only, “Impressive research.”

“You stabbed your aunt and uncle about a week later. The GCPD ruled it a random mugging, but muggers wouldn’t have removed the gold crosses from their necks, then tossed them in the gutter. I found them. Real gold. Muggers would have either left them in a hurry or sold them. I got interested. I found your medical records. You wouldn’t be trying to avenge your mother if she’d really been the one who gave you your scars.”

Nefyn nearly froze, but he could hear wheezing, agonized breaths from another of the fallen, so he knelt to end his foe’s misery and close his eyes for him. “Who do you work for?”

“Victor Zsasz doesn’t let an apprentice leave until they recruit the next one,” she said. “I’m going to get the other knives while you let that sink in.”

Safi leapt over to Nefyn’s side in three bounds. “What are you gonna say to her?”

“I’m glad apprentices don’t have to dress like Zsaszettes, apparently.” Amanita’s style involved more down-to-earth boots and a lot of coverage, with leather accents rather than leather everything.

“You’d look great in tight leather, though,” Safi commented. Perv.

***

Amanita gave him a time and address for the next night. It turned out to be a sports and activity center after closing time. She met him in the parking lot and led him to the first aid room thingy where their very own on-call medic had set up camp.

The doctor who gave him a brief physical at very start - she said they had to be sure he’d survive the auditions, and he wasn’t sure if she was joking - had a snake daemon, like all the doctors on TV and some of the ones he’d met in real life. Safi, of course, decided this was a great time to snuggle with a cobra. Dr. Kali seemed more amused than anything. 

Then Victor Zsasz sauntered in. Nefyn sat up to attention as best he could. 

It was common for the big shots of Gotham’s underworld to have wolves for daemons - Falcone and Maroni both did - but Zsasz’s was said to be a _coywolf_. Larger and more social than a coyote, but smaller, more agile, and better at surviving on slimmer pickings and in smaller territories than a wolf. Boudica was almost as famous as the man himself. Safi untangled herself from her living snake nest and looked at Boudica with huge eyes.

Zsasz gave Nefyn more of a smirk than a smile. “Doc, as far as you can tell, is he still in the same condition as he was when he took the police academy fitness test?”

Dr. Kali picked up the clipboard she set aside and took a glance. “Yes, why?”

“This is our fifth attempt at screening a new pup. Might as well cut to the chase if we can.”

“You can.”

Zsasz was apparently being very literal, because he suddenly tossed a pen right at Nefyn’s face and said, “Tag, you’re it.” And turned around and ran.

Dr. Kali made a shooing motion. “He’s serious. Go!”

***

During the first break Nefyn had been allowed in two hours, he sprawled out on a crash mat, gulping down water as Zsasz scribbled some notes from his seat in a folding chair. The three Zsaszettes who’d ambushed Nefyn when he almost caught up to Zsasz were sitting together on the other side of the room, outside of Nefyn’s earshot. They were scribbling notes, murmuring to each other, and occasionally laughing. 

Nefyn ached and wished he could lie down. Safi, who’d had to constantly dodge a trio of larger wild canid daemons in what was almost pure defense, was conked out on his lap. Zsasz’s crew’s daemons were notoriously skilled at tracking down prey, as skilled as their humans were. The African wild dog had ended up getting her by the scruff of the neck like she was a kit, with that same combination of inescapability and gentleness. 

“Relax. You’re a rookie. We’re looking for potential, not polish, and you did all right. Especially with the fake knife. You came real close to stabbing Jane in particular.” 

They’d tossed him a stage prop knife part way through the surprise mock attack. Safi was now possessively curled up on top of it. Nefyn wiped sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. “I hope you haven’t found me wanting, sir.”

Zsasz snorted. “Pfft. If they hadn’t kicked your ass, I’d be worried that they weren’t feeling well. If we let her be around for your auditions, Amanita should be able to fuck you up too, otherwise we haven’t done a good job training her. Can’t risk her throwing the fight to make you look good, though. She’s getting desperate.”

“Where is she, sir?”

“She’s been letting a lot of her chores slide during her quest and is catching up.” She’d told Nefyn after he expressed interest that being everyone’s indentured servant was the price of the training, and he was fine with that. Zsasz chewed his pen thoughtfully. Nefyn hadn’t noticed where the gum ended up. “She said you said you were looking for the person who _gave the order_ to kill your mom.”

“I saw the actual hitman, sir. He was just collecting a paycheck. He was a weapon. I don’t hate the gun he shot. Why should I hate him? He noticed me but left me alone, probably because I was a child, and he had a ski mask on anyway. It’s his employer I have issues with. I know it wasn’t Falcone or anyone who worked for him at the time, sir, so don’t worry about conflict of interest. She was someone’s henchwoman but she quit when their organization got into human trafficking, and was going to testify. That’s all I’ve verified so far. Falcone doesn’t truck with trafficking.”

Zsasz nodded. “Neither do we. Why’d you apply for the police academy anyway?”

 _Because Nefyn means “little saint”. Mom hoped better for me._ Nefyn left that part out. “I don’t really believe there’s justice. Honor and kindness, standards, sure. No justice. I thought I’d give the authorities one last chance after they’ve failed me several times, sir. It’s their own fault now.” 

“If you can’t join ‘em, beat ‘em?” Zsasz winked.

“Something like that, sir. Or kind by default, killer by your fault. I know you and your people have standards I agree with. Everyone you go after is part of this game, or they chose to interfere with your hunt after you warned them not to.”

Zsasz took some more notes. Boudica spoke up for the first time. “Hey, cutie, got a question for you.”

Safi twitched awake. She didn’t generally like being called ‘cutie’ by anyone except the close friends Nefyn had all lost contact with by now, but she didn’t seem annoyed. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you have especially strong hearing?”

Common question. “Not really. Fennec foxes live in the Sahara and the ears are for blood to circulate through and cool down in the process.”

“The GCPD and their tame inbreeds are idiots,” Boudica sniffed. “None of their daemon types would survive two days in the desert.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Safi pressed against Nefyn’s side, suddenly shy.

“How much water do they need?”

“They’ll drink water if its there, but if they get enough food with moisture in it, they can go without.”

Boudica nudged Zsasz with her nose. He flicked her in the face. “Fine, _Bodacious_ , I get it. Ahem. You two know any parkour? We all know a bit, but our daemons are only so portable. Yours could follow you further, and you can carry her too.”

“Unless you count improvised fleeing, no, sir.” But it sounded fun.

“It’s cool, we’ll find someone to teach you.” He held up a hand. “If you continue doing well in the trials and interviews, obvs.”

***

When he moved in to the big, isolated, delightfully ridiculous converted barn all of them lived in, they had a little welcome party in which Amanita (who admitted her legal name was Anita) symbolically gave him her key to the front door and whispered the security code for the intruder alarm in his ear. She hated physical contact, even through clothing, so she gave him an approving bow. Her daemon gave Safi some good-luck licks, though. Safi stood on a chair to make it easier. 

A past Zsaszette’s daemon - they'd retired after an injury - had been a mongoose, and that was fine. Zsasz's people had a definite trend for every kind of dog EXCEPT the domestic kind, though. Apprentices included. Even if the apprentice had an embarrassingly tiny, adorable one for a guy, let alone an aspiring assassin. In time Nefyn and Safi got to know Leonara and her African wild dog, Yoona and her Asiatic wild dog (a.k.a. dhole), and Jane and her red wolf. Team players with pack animals in the most eclectic pack ever. Even Jesús and Teeth, who rented rooms in the house and sometimes pitched in for a fee during emergencies, had a bush dog and a coyote, respectively. 

It was great, even if Nefyn felt like the odd one out sometimes. Not counting Dr. Kali, who also lived with them. She was a former combat medic but still a noncombatant. She told him that Amanita’s daemon had been in the form of an omnivorous canid in its own genus, not really a wolf or a fox at all, and a solitary animal once it reached adulthood. That helped.

What really helped, though, was the day when Zsasz went on a simple mission to take down a cluster of Maroni’s men who were guarding a valuable cocaine shipment - and ended up bringing back someone new. 

Everyone gathered around the dining table as Candace “Candy” Maroni explained, “In my family, all the men’s daemons settle as wolves, and all the women’s settle as domestic dogs. When I was born, they said I was a boy and he was a girl. He knew they were wrong before I did. My parents aren’t a fan of his settled form.”

The gray fox on her lap jumped onto the table, polite yet defiant. Candy continued, “They said I had to work for Sal. Said it’d make a man out of me. I hate him.”

“I was gonna kill her, but she’s interesting,” Zsasz said casually. “Besides, it’ll be really funny when Maroni figures out what really happened to his cousin’s kid. Who says aye?”

Nefyn didn’t get a vote in these things, but Safi jumped onto the table to greet her new friend. “Hi! It’ll be nice having another fox around. It’s okay to be small, you know.”

Safi had never said that in such a happy tone before...

**************************************************

Zsasz was poking his chest. “It’s okay if you’re gonna nap, but we’re gonna watch another episode of that nature documentary, because it’s Doc’s turn to pick. You’re taking up way too much room.”

Nefyn sat up, disoriented. His copy of _The Subtle Knife_ had fallen to the floor. Zsasz and all the ladies were filing in. Candy picked up the book for him. _“His Dark Materials_ , huh? It’s been years. I got sent to bed without dinner when I was caught with _The Amber Spyglass_. Too anti-Catholic, my father said. My priest said he personally was just glad I had a peaceful hobby like reading.”

Dazed, Nefyn explained, “I dreamed about how you recruited me, and it was, like, _exactly_ the same as real life except we had daemons - animal-shaped manifestations of our soul, I mean, Mr. Zsasz. We had wild dogs and stuff, and you called me ‘pup’ rather than ‘puppy’ to be more accurate to me having a fox. Fennec fox.” He didn’t mention Jane. Losing her to Butch Gilzean, who Nefyn bet would have a monitor lizard or something else squat and scaly, was still too raw for her best friend Leonara. She’d just plopped down on the couch and taken out her knitting. 

“Of course we did, puppy,” Zsasz said. He’d rolled up his sleeves, showing his fresh new tally mark. He was also wearing the pansexual-colors friendship bracelet Yoona had made him for his birthday. “My very own nifty hunter expansion pack. Now scooch over.”

**Author's Note:**

> While "Nefyn" is a Welsh variant of the Irish "Nevin", which can mean "little saint", it's also the name of a Welsh seaside town. I thought it'd be funny for his daemon to share the name of a Moroccan coastal city. Boudica is named after the Celtic warrior queen who led an uprising against the Romans...whose symbol was the gray wolf. Baby foxes can be called kits, cubs, or pups.
> 
> Fennec fox, the smallest of the dog/wolf/fox family:  
> 
> 
> Maned wolf, which really can grow to a yard/meter tall and is the biggest canid in South America:  
> 
> 
> Ironically, the closest non-extinct relative to the maned wolf is the stubby-legged bush dog:  
> 
> 
> Jane has a red wolf because red wolves are critically endangered, and Nefyn is subconsciously stuck on her recent death.
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> African wild dogs and Asiatic wild dogs/dholes are closely related to each other and extremely loyal and successful pack hunters:
> 
> Red foxes get all the attention when gray foxes are lovely, too.
> 
>  


End file.
